Burden of Sacrifice
by PrincessMidna90
Summary: Written for the competition called "Love Without Regret" by Sun-And-Nocturn over at deviantART "Let's face it. The end to Desmond's story was less than beautiful. Ezio, Altair and even Connor had much better endings. Desmond's father reacted to the tragic decision Desmond made, but Shaun and Rebecca were completely silent! Not much of an ending for our beloved bartender! So here's


"DESMOND!"

In all his years as an assassin, with all his experience, William Miles had never heard a cry as heart-broken and devastated as the one that came from Shaun Hasting's mouth.

"You can't do this, you can't! Not after all you've been through – _we've_ been through! YOU CAN'T!" The last words ended as a half sob, and Shaun almost collapsed on the floor.

It couldn't end like this, it couldn't. He had so much more to say, so much more to experience with Desmond. He'd never told him the truth, and he wanted so desperately to do so. But not like this, never like this. Shaun had always imagined telling Desmond the truth once the world was saved, once they were alive, and all that had happened these past couple of months were nothing more than nightmares, nothing more than fading memories.

But the world wanted it differently. Fate would not allow them a happy ending, would not allow Desmond this one chance at happiness.

The world would not give Desmond what he deserved.

It had tormented him, made him escape the world he had once known – twice – only to demand this last sacrifice from him.

Shaun had never been as mad and upset and angry with the world as he was at this moment. He wanted to say something, do something to change the fate.

But Desmond would not listen. He had listened to Minerva and Juno and decided too quickly which fate was the worst – and he found dying to be the better of the two choices he was given.

Would he have changed, chosen the other path if he knew the truth about Shaun's feelings? Or would he have chosen the same, choosing to save the world instead of growing old with Shaun, if he felt the same way?

Shaun Hastings did not know and now he would never find out.

All because the dim-witted twat of an American he had fallen in love with wanted to be a hero, wanted to be a martyr of a case he had never believed in until very recently.

William and Rebecca tried to hold him back, tried to keep him from interfering with Desmond, but desperation made Shaun break free.

He ran towards the other man, who stood with his hand over the globe, almost touching it, acting like he was all alone.

Shaun hit him at full speed, hoping to tackle Desmond to the ground, but Desmond stood as if he was frozen, not a sign that another man had just run into him.

Shaun fell to the ground himself, turned around and started at Desmond, unmoving, frozen in time, as if he was a statue, a solid memory imprinted on the world.

Moving to his feet again, Shaun reached out to touch Desmond, but found his hand stopping a mere inch from his body. It felt like a skin-tight shield had been put around him, hindering anyone from touching him. It seemed his whole body was covered by that shield, and it even extended around the globe itself.

"Desmond," Shaun said, tentatively. "Can you hear me, Desmond?" Shaun's voice was a mere whisper, but Desmond should have heard him, _would_ have heard him, if not for whatever sorcery it was that held him captured.

"Shaun." It was Rebecca's voice, sounding scared, pleading. Then Shaun looked away, looked at the world around him as he felt and heard the world around him crumble, and understood the tone in Rebecca's voice.

The world was ending. Desmond was frozen still, and the world was ending. It was too late; it was all too late to save him.

"Shaun, we need to get out of here!" The same tone was still in her voice, but Rebecca sounded more urgent now.

But it was too late for Shaun as well. His mind was made up; he would stay here with Desmond. Rebuilding the world seemed like such a pointless thing now. His hopes and dreams had changed along with his thoughts and feelings and nothing would ever be the same.

He looked at William and Rebecca one last time, and then turned to Desmond.

"I'll stay here," Shaun said to Desmond in a low voice. "You don't need to be alone anymore. And neither will I."

Then everything turned black.

When Shaun woke, he found himself looking up at a bright ceiling, the kind you see in hospitals. Squinting, he could hear the steady beeping of machinery and the rustling sound of scrubs and clothes.

He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry and no sound would come. The bright light made him close his eyes again.

"Shaun?" a familiar voice said his name, but he couldn't place its origin or if it was male or female; he just knew he had heard it somewhere before.

Shaun tried to turn his voice to where he suspected the sound came from, but it hurt, so he gave up.

"He's awake," the same voice said, and soon after another voice repeated his name.

"Where… Where am I?" Shaun managed to say, his voice sounding oddly rough and not at all like his own.

"You're in the hospital," said the voice Shaun now recognized as William's. "You've been in a coma for two weeks. We almost thought we'd lost you."

Shaun just lay there for a moment before the gears started turning in his head, slow and creaking first, then quick and smooth.

Desmond was dead. The world was safe. Desmond was dead because the world was safe. The world was safe because Desmond was dead.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks, and his body was buried within that wretched temple built by Those Who Came Before.

Or was the world saved? Was it really? Shaun wasn't so sure it had been saved, wasn't sure Desmond's sacrifice had made them safe, as had been promised.

But did he want to know? Could he postpone the knowing part?

Shaun, being Shaun, could not. He had to know. So of course he asked.

"Did he do it? Did he save us? Was it worth his dea… sacrifice?"

He noticed the look passing between the two others, although it was quick. As William opened his mouth to speak, Shaun noticed how worn down and haggard they both looked. It was as if they hadn't changed their clothes or showered for days. It looked like they hadn't eaten nearly as much as they should have.

Something was very wrong.

"Juno, she... She didn't uphold her end of the bargain. As Minerva warned us, she waited for just a short while before she went out of the temple and started leaving her mark upon the world.

This place was built by our order a long time ago, hidden deep underground. Uninhabited for years, those of us who could make it came down here. She hasn't discovered us so far – at least as far as we know – but we also know it's just a question of time before she does.

So we stay down here, hidden from the world above, unable to save anyone. We're trying to save as much food as we can, but we're struggling already. The generators have started failing and we too will soon be cast into darkness because we cannot use _their_ technology, because she will find us if we do. Nothing down here is theirs, and as far as I'm concerned, nothing ever will be."

_Too much, too much. _How could this have happened? Why couldn't Minerva stop her? Or anyone? Shaun hated Desmond's choice, but he had hoped with everything in him that it would work.

It struck him then that he was still alive. Why was he alive? He had been with Desmond in the temple, he couldn't touch him, and he chose to stay with him. So why was he here?

Something was very wrong.

"Why did you save me? I said to him he didn't have to be alone anymore! I told him I'd stay with him!" Shaun's voice rose, coloured with panic and desperation and grief and loss.

When he tried to get up, Shaun noticed he was strapped to the bed. He looked towards the two people he considered friends with a queer look in his eyes.

"Let me go! I can't stay here, I need to go!"

"I'm sorry, Shaun, but we can't." It was Rebecca who spoke now, and she sounded… odd, not like herself. She sounded so different that it made Shaun stop his struggling for a moment to look at her.

Then he renewed his effort, even more desperate now that he _knew_ something was wrong.

He heard footsteps and felt the sudden, sharp prick of the needle injected straight into his arm.

Whatever it was that was in the needle made him stop his struggling and he felt himself get drowsy.

He had to stay awake, he had to fight, he had to get out of there.

Shaun's world turned black.

He woke to someone shaking him and he thought he heard his name.

"No. No, let me be!" He tried to move away from the hands, but the voice broke through to him at last.

"Desmond?"

"Dude, you okay? You've been twisting and struggling and crying and yelling and God knows what else for the past couple of hours and we couldn't wake you! Becca, bring Shaun some coffee would ya? He looks awful."

"I… Which day is it?" Desmond looked at him in a strange way, but answered anyways. "December 20th."

"There's still time then," Shaun said, mostly to himself. "Not much, but maybe enough."

"Shaun? Are you sure you're okay?"

"Desmond. I need to talk to you. And you need to listen to me, because it has to do with tomorrow and everyone, but mostly Juno, Minerva and you and… _this_." Shaun motioned to everything around them. "You NEED to promise to listen and to not interrupt or to think of this as bullshit."

"Uh, yeah, sure." Shaun could tell from the tone of Desmond's voice that he didn't know whether to take Shaun seriously or not, but he would try his best. It was something at least.

After Shaun had had his coffee, he and Desmond walked to a part of the Temple where they could talk without being disturbed by William or Rebecca.

"Tell me," Desmond said, and Shaun complied. How could he not? And although Shaun could see that Desmond wanted to interrupt him, he held himself back. Even though he didn't want to believe what Shaun told him, he did.

The only thing Shaun didn't know was whether or not Desmond would change the outcome. Both choices were bad, but which was the lesser?

"Thank you." Desmond got up to leave, but Shaun wasn't completely finished yet. Desmond had to know, no more hiding and suppressing feelings now.

"One last thing, Desmond, just one last thing." As Desmond turned back to look at Shaun, Shaun _knew_. He could see it plain on Desmond's face that Desmond _knew_.

And that was all it took for them to fall together on the floor, limbs tangled, mouths clashing, tongues fighting, hips moving together in a desperate dance.

Desperation and fear and hope and love drove them to release and they fell asleep tangled up on the cold hard floor of the temple, dreaming of a world where they could be together, with no choices like this, a world where they knew they would be alive the next day.


End file.
